All I Want for Christmas
by hull1984
Summary: Never issue an ultimatum to a Slytherin.


**A/N:** Inspired by Lloyd Dobler (oh come on, who didn't fall in love with John Cusack at that moment?).

* * *

All I Want for Christmas

When Ron Weasley told Draco Malfoy a week before Christmas that he wasn't willing to hide anymore, he thought that would be an end to it, an end to them.

Ron was beginning to suspect that he may have been a bit wrong about that.

* * *

The doors of The Great Hall don't so much open as explode.

For a moment they sway slightly on their hinges and then, from the slowly clearing smoke, a figure emerges.

"Oh, fuck!"

Ron's eyes grow wide as he turns pale beneath his freckles, a cold shiver runs down his spine - and right back up again when he sees what the figure is wearing. He looks to the exits hastily calculating his chances of making it.

* * *

Harry lets out a loud snort and collapses on the table, laughing like a demented hyena.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Ron can't help but think of his best friend, not so much as The Boy Who Lived, as The Boy Who Really Needed To Learn to Be More Supportive Of His Friend In Times Of Crisis. These times are growing disturbingly more frequent.

Hermione giggles and pokes him in the ribs.

"If you're planning to make a run for it, Ron, you'd better do it quick."

She looks over at the figure currently striking a dramatic pose in the doorway, and her giggles quickly turn into sniggers. "But frankly, I don't fancy your chances."

"Holy fucking Merlin! Just what the bleeding hell does Malfoy think he's doing now?"

Seamus is clearly impressed.

* * *

Draco Malfoy is standing between the barely upright entrance doors, his legs spread wide and hands planted on his hips.

It would make for quite a heroic pose... if it wasn't for the red Santa hat.

The silver bauble dangling from his ear does lend a certain roguish charm, as do the tight leather pants, but to be truly heroic he'd probably have to lose Santa's fur-trimmed coat.

Apparently the same thought has occurred to Draco.

The sneer on his lips doesn't falter as long, pale fingers reach for the first of the buttons and slowly begin to open the jacket.

* * *

Ron's eyebrows are crawling into his hairline. He is royally screwed.

By now the object of the Slytherin's intense gaze has become obvious to everyone, and more and more people are standing up, straining to see what will happen next.

Dozens of heads move back and forth between the two boys like a bizarre parody of a Muggle tennis game.

Draco has finished opening the jacket now and there are more than a few appreciative gasps as it falls open to reveal a pale, but surprisingly toned chest and stomach.

"Mmm, nice six pack, Draco!"

Ron closes his eyes and groans. If he survives this he is _so_ going to kill Ginny.

* * *

Draco's gaze hasn't flickered since he's entered the room; even now as he slowly sinks to his knees it remains steady and fixed. Reaching forward, he presses a button on the strange appliance in front of him, and the sneer on his lips swiftly morphs into an evil smirk.

Gripping the object on either end, he rises to his feet and holds it above his head.

There is a moment of complete silence as if a mute button has been pressed on the world.

And then it happens.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore raises one eyebrow. Ah, seems Mr Malfoy has reached a decision.

He turns to Professor McGonagall on his right. "Minerva I'm giving odds of 5/1 that Mr Weasley runs screaming from the room in the next 20 seconds."

The Transfiguration teacher shakes her head in disapproval. "Really, Albus, I sometimes wonder about your propriety as a headmaster."

Then, still pointedly not looking at the old wizard. "Put me down for 10 galleons on Mr Weasley staying right where he is."

She's always had an unshakeable belief in the Sorting Hat's ability to get it right.

Dumbledore tries to hide a smile before turning to Professor Snape.

* * *

Ron hadn't even noticed the thing sitting between Draco's outspread feet until the blond had performed that agonisingly slow fall to his knees and reached out to it.

Now, as he watches the Slytherin raise it above his head he is overcome with a terrible sense of dread.

Oh, bugger.

Wincing, he closes his eyes and tries not to whimper.

But he knows, he just knows.

Opening his eyes he frantically starts to look around again for the nearest possible escape route.

* * *

"Oh my God, you didn't!"

Tears are running down Hermione's face by this point. "Ron, please, please tell me you didn't?"

Ron ignores her, as all hope lost, he finally accepts his fate and drops his head onto the table.

Seamus is clearly confused, looking quickly between Draco and Ron, he turns to frown at Hermione.

"What? What did he do?" He glances back at Malfoy. "And what is Malfoy doing with a Muggle music box? Me mam used to have one just like it."

* * *

The unmistakable sound of Christmas bells floats across the room.

_"I don't want a lot for Christmas; there is just one thing I need…"_

The words echo through the hall.

And one thought suddenly comes to Ron. Very loud. And very clear.

Never, never issue an ultimatum to a Slytherin.

But, more importantly, never under any circumstances, no matter what the temptation, show one of the evil bastards any of Hermione's Muggle movies…

* * *

Later, in Draco's room as he's removing Santa's boots, Ron vows never to doubt his existence again.


End file.
